


where you go, i'm going (so jump and i'm jumping)

by picketfences (OnyxSphinx)



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, M/M, a happy ending too for the fun of it, based on the happiest season, some tiny bits of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27971666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/picketfences
Summary: Ben invites Caleb along to his family's for Christmas. There's only one problem: Ben and Caleb are dating, and Ben's not out to his family.
Relationships: Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge
Kudos: 6





	where you go, i'm going (so jump and i'm jumping)

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure i don't know shit about christmas or christianity so i was fully winging it. hopefully it's enjoyable to read

The wind whips around them; biting into his cheeks and stinging his nose; and Caleb tugs his scarf so it’s a bit tighter around his neck; wishing he had grabbed thicker gloves. His other hand, though, is plenty warm, clutched in Ben’s hand. 

Ben leans over. “You having fun?” he asks; breath warm against Caleb’s cheek; and even still, Caleb feels like blushing at the proximity, though they’ve been dating almost two years now. 

“Yeah,” he replies, belatedly; and Ben frowns.

“If you’re not having fun, we can go home,” he offers. “I promise, you can just tell me—I don’t want you to be uncomfortable—”

“Ben.” Caleb halts, holding the other’s hand tightly. “It’s fine. Being here makes you happy, so I’m okay to be here, alright? I promise.”

Ben frowns, but says, “Alright.” And then: “I still don’t get how you can’t just— _ love _ Christmas, though. I mean, look at all the lights, and the decorations, and the Christmas cheer...”

“Did you know,” says the tour guide, “that approximately nine thousand-eight-hundred-and-fifty people commit suicide on Christmas Day? Oh, look,” she adds, brightly, “over there is the Peoples’ Church of God—they have the most wonderful Christmas sermon, you should all go check it out. I recommend the cookies afterwards.”

“...okay, so maybe not,” Ben amends, and Caleb laughs; and then they’re both laughing and clutching each other; falling behind the group; but neither of them particularly care. Once they finally regain their breath, Ben says, “Come on, I want to show you something,” and tugs Caleb off the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?” Caleb asks, following after him.

Ben shakes his head. “You’ll see,” he murmurs; and stops beside one of the houses, and—climbs the fucking fire escape. 

“ _ Tallboy! _ ” Caleb hisses, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Just come on up!” Ben replies, and keeps climbing the fire escape. 

At a loss for what else to do, Caleb does as told, and follows after him. For a moment after cresting the roof, he wobbles; but then Ben’s hand is reaching down to tug him up, and Caleb’s silently thanking all the years his boyfriend spent playing baseball. Ben leads him over the peak of the roof, and motions for him to sit down next to him.

They gaze out over Main Street for a few moments. “C’mon, you’ve got to admit, this is pretty good,” Ben prompts; and Caleb laughs.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, “it is kind of beautiful.” Not as beautiful as the man sitting next to him, but Caleb’s not sure that that’s a fair fight. He leans his head on Ben’s shoulder, and sighs; the two of them falling together. “I love you,” he murmurs.

He can feel Ben’s smile. “Love you too—”

“Hey! There’s someone up there!”

They both start; trying to stand at the same time; but, uncoordinated, bump into each other; and before he knows it, Caleb’s tipping off over the edge, fingers scrambling on the drainpipe for purchase. “Shit!” he yelps. “Ben!”

“Caleb!” Ben’s face appears over the edge; frantic. “Hang on, I’ll be right there—”

Of course, that’s when the window that Caleb’s hanging in front of brightens with light, and Caleb’s treated to the simply  _ delightful _ sight of a woman clad in black spandex holding a riding crop, a person dressed in a reindeer costume behind her.

Caleb lets out a surprised yelp just as the woman yells “Hey—!” and his fingers finally slip, sending him crashing to the ground on top of an inflatable snowman, which cushions his fall far less than he would have liked it to.

A moment later, Ben’s hands are framing his face. “Caleb!” he says, “are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Caleb wheezes, stumbling to his feet. “We should—we should probably go before they come yell at us.”

“Good idea,” Ben says, and grabs his hand, tugging it to get him to go faster; and the two of them get the hell out of Dodge.

By the time they come to a stop in a shadowed alleyway, they’re both wheezing and panting for air, crying slightly from laughing the entire way. “I hate you,” Caleb gasps, gripping a fistful of Ben’s jacket, and tugging him down for a kiss. 

Ben’s lips are chapped from the cold and slightly stiff, but he reciprocates eagerly; pressing into the kiss. When he pulls away, he rests his head against the wall. “I hate that you’re going to be alone,” he mutters. “I wish you could come with me.”

“To your parents’?” Caleb frowns. “I can get time off, but who would take care of the pets?” 

Ben tugs him closer; their lips only separated by a scant inch. “Mary can take care of them,” he says, sotto voce. “Come with me.” His eyes are dark and wide.  _ Jesus, _ Caleb thinks,  _ Yale sure did teach him how to negotiate. _

“Okay,” he says, finally. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Ben’s face splits into a wide grin. 

“I’ll come with you,” Caleb agrees; and Ben tugs him down for a searing kiss, and Caleb thinks he might just die right then and there.

-

The next morning, in a change of pace, Caleb’s up first. He spends the first half hour dicking around on his phone, and then remembers Ben’s probably going to be up soon, and gets up to go put on some coffee and make some omelettes.

A while later, Ben comes down the stairs; yawning widely and tugging his bathrobe closer around himself. “Morning,” he mumbles, “you’re oddly chipper.”

“Well, maybe I’m just excited,” Caleb counters, sliding his plate across the bar to him. “I mean, I’m finally going to meet your parents. That’s kind of big, Tallboy.”

For some reason, the words make Ben tense; and he stops, fork halfway to his mouth. “I spoke hastily last night,” he says, “you’re not serious about it, are you? I mean, who’s going to look after the pets? It’s five days...”

“I asked Mary,” Caleb replies, “she said she can cover it for the time I’m gone.” Then, because he’s not an idiot: “what’s wrong? You wouldn’t usually be so anxious...”

“I just—” Ben sighs. “It’s nothing. Sorry. I don’t want to worry you.”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” Caleb argues. “Come on, Ben, you can tell me.”

The other frowns; stabs at his omelette. “Fine,” he says. “I—remember when I came out to my parents a few months ago, and they took it great?” Caleb nods. “Well. That was...a lie.” He’s not looking at Caleb anymore; gaze trained solely on his plate.

Caleb feels like the world has been pulled out from underneath him; trying to comprehend it, he mumbles, “They didn’t take it great?”

“No, I—” Ben stops; swallows thickly. When he speaks, it’s quiet. “I didn’t tell them.”

There’s a beat; and then Caleb says, softly, “ _ What? _ ”

“I didn’t—”

“I heard you!” he snaps. “I just can’t believe—you  _ lied _ to me, Ben! You—you—!”

Desperation soaks Ben’s tone. “I know,” he says, “I know, I know, and I’m sorry, it’s just, I was going to tell them, and then my dad announced that he was going to run for mayor, and then—and then it wasn’t the right moment, and I didn’t want to ruin everything for them, and I—I—” he drags a hand across his face; the fabric of his sleeve coming away wet, and Caleb feels a pang of sympathy. Not all families are as supportive as his was, and he knows it—so maybe he can cut Ben a bit of slack.

“Okay,” he says, taking a steadying breath. “Okay. Thank you for...for telling me.”

Ben reaches out; takes his face in his hands. “I’m going to tell them,” he promises. “As soon as the party is over, I’m going to tell them about us. I’m not going to hide you anymore, Caleb, I promise, just—just give me until after the party. Five days, that’s all, I swear. Please?”

Caleb breathes in a shaky breath; the warmth of Ben’s hands comforting against his skin; and then he says: “Okay. Five days...okay.”

Ben’s watery smile is wide. 

A second later, his stomach growls; and they both burst into peels of laughter. “We should probably eat, huh,” Ben says.

“Aye—I spent too much time on it for it to go to waste,” Caleb agrees; and they dig in.

-

The drive there starts off bumpy; a bad omen if Caleb ever did see one; but still, he tries to be optimistic. It helps that Ben’s put on his favourite true crime podcast—something about listening to people joke about death makes his own problems seem insignificant. 

About an hour in, his stomach grumbles; and Ben, who has the ears of a fucking owl, says, “Do you want a snack?”

Caleb hums. “Depends on what you packed.”

“Pickles, yogurt, honey sticks, some sandwiches—peanut butter jelly, and tuna—, and some chips,” Ben recites. “They’re behind my seat, you can probably get to them.”

As it turns out, he can; and he drops the bag in his lap, pawing through it. “Jesus, Ben,” he whistles, “you’ve practically got a four course meal in here. Maybe I oughta start introducing you as my wife instead.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Men can make meals too, Brewster,” he says. “And anyway, I bought everything except the sandwiches. And if you try and introduce me as anything but your friend for the next five days I’m not going to be happy.”

Right. Caleb sobers up slightly; chest panging; and randomly grabs a bag from the plethora of options. Ghost pepper chips, according to the label. He tears them open and begins to shovel them down. 

That’s a mistake; a few moments later he’s wheezing, eyes streaming. Ben sounds amused when he says, “Do you want some water?”

“I—hate you,” Caleb manages, through the burning, but snatched the proffered water anyway; gulping it down greedily, the momentary relief gone almost the instant that he stops drinking. “Why do you have those in there?” he asks, when he can finally breathe properly. His lips are still stinging, but he’s not sure that’s going to go away. 

“Those were for me,” Ben says, “I’m surprised you ate them.”

“Yeah, me too,” Caleb mutters. 

“You want a kiss to make it better?” Ben teases; hands on the wheel and eyes trained on the road. They’re coming up to a red light, though, and when they do, Ben leans over and presses a kiss to his lips. 

“You’re a maniac for eating those,” Caleb says, when he pulls away, but there’s not much bite in his tone, and Ben laughs. 

After that, the trip passes in relatively uneventful silence; Caleb reads a book he’s been meaning to get done with for a while, and then they stop at a gas station to fill the tank up, and switch so Caleb’s driving.

The scenery is really nice, actually, and Caleb almost gets distracted a few times; but manages to keep his eyes on the road and doesn’t miss any turns. 

Around half an hour into his shift, Ben’s hand settles onto his thigh. “You know I can’t do anything about that,” Caleb says, not taking his gaze off the road; and Ben laughs.

“I know,” he says. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything, anyway. I just...wanted to make sure you’re still here, I guess.” He gives an embarrassed laugh. “It’s silly, I know, just—”

Caleb cuts him off. “It’s fine,” he placates, “you don’t have to explain yourself t’ me, Ben.”

After a few beats, Ben sighs. “Alright,” he says. “Just—thank you, I guess. For coming with me. You don’t know how much it means to me. I mean, we’re not going to be, like—like, obvious about it or anything, but it’s really important to me that you’re going to be there supporting me.”

Caleb raises a brow. “I thought you liked Christmas,” he says.

Ben sighs again. “I do,” he says, “it’s just...it’s always so high-pressure back home—everything has to be perfect, you know? And now, this year, with the whole thing with dad running for mayor...it’s going to be ten times worse. I’m not sure I could get through it without you.”

Caleb’s heart clenches; and he takes one hand off the wheel to settle it over Ben’s hand. “Well, then,” he says, “I’m glad I’m coming along. “We gotta make sure you survive the whole thing—you’ve got that important report to write for Washington, after all.”

“Oh, God,” Ben groans, “I had forgotten about that. I hate you for reminding me.”

“Nah, you love me.”

“That I do,” Ben says; exasperation and fondness mixing; and Caleb’s heart feels fit to burst.

-

When Ben had said that they were going to his parents’ house, Caleb had expected something modest, maybe two story—not a fucking  _ mansion. _ Because that is what it is. It’s a huge, red-stone building, with sloping roofs, and ivy growing artfully up the sides, towering trees shading it.

“It’s not a mansion,” Ben protests.

Caleb snorts. “And my name isn’t Caleb Brewster,” he shoots back. “How do you not feel claustrophobic in our place?”

“I didn’t grow up here,” Ben mutters. “My dad came into some money a bit after I moved out—some old aunt or something, I’m not sure. Anyway, the place I grew up in was a two-bed, single-story place—I’ve told you about it before.”

“Yeah, I know, but still...” Caleb trails off.  _ Is what we have enough for you? _ he wonders; and then instantly reprimands himself for thinking it. Of course it is; Ben’s perfectly happy, and tells him as much near-daily. “Nevermind,” he says, shaking his head. “Well. Let’s go meet your parents, then.”

The walk up the driveway is nerve-wracking; Caleb spends the entire thirty seconds wording and re-wording his greeting; and in the end it doesn’t even matter, because they ring the doorbell, and a few moments later, a tall, silver-haired man opens the door and sweeps Ben into a hug before Caleb even has the chance to say hi.

“Benjamin!” he exclaims, pulling back, hands on his shoulders, “you’ve grown, I swear it. How are you? I saw the photos of you and Senetor Washington in the paper the other day, you’re going great places, son.”

“Thanks, dad,” Ben mumbles; smiling; and then: “oh! This is Caleb—Caleb Brewster. I told you about him. He’s my—”

“Roommate,” his father finishes; eyeing Caleb critically. “Oh, yes, I remember now. The orphan—that must truly be awful for you, Caleb. You must never have seen such finery as in this house...”

Caleb flushes. “Actually, I was nineteen,” he says, “but you do have a very nice house, Mr. Tallmadge.”

Nathaniel hums. “Right, well, this way, please,” he says. “Samuel! Can you come down here? Your brother’s here!”

There’s a crash from upstairs; and both Ben and his father wince. A few moments later, a gangly brunet appears at the top of the staircase. When he spots Ben, he lets out a high-pitched shriek, and pelts down the stairs, enveloping Ben into a hug. “Ben!” he exclaims, “I haven’t seen you in ages, oh my God! I missed you so much—”

Nathaniel gives a discreet cough. “Samuel,” he warns.

The man—Samuel—goes red. “Right, yeah, sorry,” he mutters; pulling away; and his gaze zeroes in on Caleb. “Is this Caleb?” he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and when Ben nods, plows on, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Caleb, that’s awful.”

“It was eight years ago,” Caleb says, trying not to snap, and not quite succeeding, if the look Ben shoots him is anything to go by. “But, uh, thank you,” he tacks on, hastily.

“Caleb, you can have Samuel’s room,” Nathaniel says, “Samuel, can you show him where it is, please? Ben—I want to talk to you about that bill Washington is trying to pass, the one about the oil-spill cleanups...”

“Well, this way,” Samuel says, leading him down a flight of stairs.

“Your room is in the basement?” Caleb asks; surprised.

Samuel laughs. “Yeah, well, I have night terrors,” he says, “it’s so that I don’t bother anyone. Uh, also,” he scratches the back of his neck, “there’s no lock—I, uh, have a fear of being locked in. You’ll have privacy, though, don’t worry,” he hastens to add.

_ Great, _ Caleb thinks.  _ Separate room, and I don’t have a fucking lock. _ It’s fine, though, he can do this. It’s only four more days. 

He sets his suitcase at the end of his bed, and then, because it’s been bugging him, asks, “Where’s your mom?”

“Oh, she’s dead,” Samuel says, chipperly. “You’ll meet our step-mom, Zipporah, later, though—she’s busy in her study. She runs dad’s instagram,” he explains, “so she spends a lot of time editing photos for posting.”

“Oh,” Caleb says; awkwardly. Thankfully, Samuel doesn’t seem notice.

“Anyway,” he says, “I’ll let you get unpacked—oh, we’re going out to eat, by the way, so I hope you brought something formal.”

“I did,” Caleb confirms; but he’s already worrying about whether it’s going to be formal enough. He had originally thought a pair of nice jeans and a shirt and blazer would be good, but now, having seen the Tallmadge residence, he’s starting to doubt himself. 

Samuel smiles. “Great,” he says, and closes the door after him, leaving Caleb alone for the first time all day.

Caleb inspects the room for a few moments, and then collapses back onto the bed; pulls out his phone. There’s a slew of unread messages from Mary.

He unlocks his phone; pulls up the messages app.

Half of them are photos of the snow; apparently, it’s snowed in Long Island in the time since they’ve left. The other half are asking him how the drive was, and if he got there safely.

Caleb grins; shoots back an affirmative. A moment later, his phone rings.

“Hey,” he says, picking up. “How are the animals.”

“The animals are fine,” Mary replies. “I fed the cat her special meal, with the medicine in it, and I gave the dog his dinner.”

Caleb frowns. “What about the fish?”

“The fish?” Mary pauses. “The fish are fine,” she says. “But enough about the pets, how are you? How’s it going? Does Ben’s family like you? I mean, if my son were dating you, I’d like you.”

“That’s a really weird thing to say,” Caleb laughs; and then, more serious, “I’m not sure. It’s...complicated.”

He can practically hear her frown. “Complicated?” she asks. “How? I mean, you love Ben, you’re going to ask him to marry you—it can’t be  _ that _ complicated.”

“They don’t know we’re dating,” he says, in a rush. “Ben’s not out to them yet. They think I’m his roommate.”

There’s a long silence; and then Mary says, “What.”

“Ben’s not—”

“I heard you,” she says. “That’s a terrible idea, Caleb, I can’t believe you’re lying to them.”

“It’s for a good reason!” he argues. “I mean, it’s not easy, but it’s what Ben needs, so I’m willing to do it.”

“Still a horrible idea,” Mary repeats. “This is going to end awfully. Oh my God. You idiot.”

“Quit shaming me!”

“I’m not shaming you, I just think you’re making a bad decision, and you should feel bad about it—fine, you know what, whatever. God. You’re so in love with him.”

Caleb can feel a dopy smile spreading across his face. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I am. Anyway,” he sits up, “I should say goodbye, I have to get ready for some fancy dinner.”

“Okay, okay, bye.”

“Bye,” Caleb says, and hangs up; pulls out the nicest shirt and blazer he can find in his suitcase and pulls them on before making his way up the stairs and into the lobby. 

_ Lobby, _ he thinks, to himself, half-hysterical. God. He’s not really cut out for this world, he’s not—

There’s a commotion at the top of the stairway, and Caleb looks up, and has to physically remind himself not to gape.

Ben’s done up in a blue and gold three-piece, hair brushed back and braided, a ribbon securing to braid. He looks absolutely stunning—were it any other time, Caleb would jump his bones right then and there; but as it is, he snaps his gaze away hurriedly.

When Ben reaches the bottom of the stairs, he smiles at Caleb. “You look nice,” he says; and then: “hang on a second, you’ve got something on your face.” He licks his finger and smudges at Caleb’s cheek.

“Ew,” Caleb groans, batting his hand away, but he’s smiling. “You look nice too—”

“Oh, there you are, Benjamin,” comes Nathaniel’s voice; and the two of them break apart hastily; standing at a respectable distance. “You look flushed,” he observes, when he rounds the corner, “you’re not getting sick, are you?”

“No, just a little warm,” Ben mutters; and then: “When is Will getting here?”

Nathaniel hums. “He and Sally will meet us at the restaurant,” he says, and grabs his coat off the coat-stand. “Zipporah! We’re leaving now!”

“Alright, alright,” comes an irate-sounding voice from down the hall; and a moment later one of the doors opens to reveal a woman dressed in a deep red cocktail dress—Zipporah, Caleb supposes. “I was just doing some touch-ups on the last campaign photos,” she says, scowling.

“Well you can finish that up when we get back,” Nathaniel says, placatingly. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunity to get more photos while we’re at dinner, besides.”

“...fine,” Zipporah says; and then: “Where on Earth is Samuel?”

“I sent him out to wait by the car,” Nathaniel replies. “I’d give him the key, but, well...you remember what happened last time.”

Zipporah grimaces. “Good point. Okay, let’s go—” she stops; gaze snapping to Caleb. “This is...”

“Caleb,” Ben supplies.

“Ah, right, your charity-case,” Zipporah nods. “Well, nice to meet you, Caleb, I hope you know how to dine at an upper-class establishment.” And with that, she whisks past him, hooking her arm in Nathaniel’s, and is out the door.

Ben sighs. “I’m really sorry about that,” he says, “she doesn’t mean it like that, she just—doesn’t think before she speaks.”

Caleb waves him off. “No, it’s fine,” he says; and tries not to let it hurt too much that Ben didn’t step in to contradict her.

Ben frowns. “You sure?” he asks, “it was really a dick move of her to say that.”

“It’s fine,” Caleb repeats. “Like you said, she just wasn’t thinking. We should probably get going.”

“...alright,” Ben says, and makes his way to the door; holding it open for Caleb.

“Such a gentleman,” Caleb teases; and Ben grins at him; and suddenly, everything seems fine again.

They get to the restaurant about half an hour later. Looking at the fancy exterior, and the magnificent facade, Caleb feels horrifically under-dressed. Ben doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort; but to be fair, his dad and Zipporah have sequestered him and Samuel away to take a family photo with his brother, Will, and his family, so Caleb doesn’t blame him too much.

Once that’s finally done, they’re shown to the table; and Caleb’s just starting to relax when Zipporah says, “Oh, Sarah! How lovely to bump into you!”

The woman in question—short, brunette—frowns. “You asked—”

“Waiter!” Zipporah calls, “can we get another chair? —here, Sarah, sit down, sit down, we have so much catching up to do.”

“This is all we have, sorry,” the waiter says; apologetic; and offers Caleb a short chair. Caleb sighs, and takes it—it’s not the waiter’s fault, anyways.

Ben frowns. “Do you want to switch?”

“No, it’s fine,” Caleb says, gaze trained on the menu; trying desperately to feel like things aren’t spiralling out of control.

It’s when Zipporah leads the conversation to Ben and Sarah dating in high school that Ben says, “Caleb, you look a little peaky.”

Caleb blinks. “Sorry, what?”

“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Ben says; more pointedly. “You can splash some water on your face.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, uh, now that you mention it, I do feel a little off.” He rises; and Ben rises with him; putting a hand on his arm to ostensibly steady him. Greedily, Caleb feels glad for the ruse; they haven’t hardly touched each other since they got to the Tallmadges’.

When they get to the bathroom, Caleb does splash water on his face; Ben stands awkwardly, waiting for him to be done. “I’m sorry,” he says, finally. “I didn’t know she was going to be here, I swear. If I had, I—I don’t know.” He leans heavily against the wall.

“It’s fine,” Caleb says. It’s not. “You never mentioned her.”

Ben grimaces. “It was during high school,” he says. “I was...I was convinced that if I just tried hard enough, I’d—stop being gay I guess. I don’t really like remembering it, otherwise I would have told you, I swear.”

Caleb drops his gaze. It’s a fair point. He sighs. “Okay.”

“No more surprises, I swear,” Ben promises. “And I’m making the waiter find you a proper chair.”

Caleb smiles weakly. “Thanks,” he says; and Ben kisses him; just the once, briefly, before they pull apart.

As they come out of the bathroom, they bump into a tall, round-faced, fair man. When he meets Ben’s gaze, he says, “Benjamin?”

“Nathan,” Ben says; less than enthusiastically. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

“Neither did I,” Nathan replies. “Who’s this?”

“I’m his roommate,” Caleb replies, the lie slipping off his tongue easily. “Caleb.” He sticks out his hand.

Nathan eyes him for a long moment before taking it. “Good to meet you. Now, if you’d excuse me—”

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry,” Ben says, sheepishly, and they let him pass.

Caleb gives him a wordless look. “Highschool friend,” Ben explains, and leaves it at that; tracking down another waiter and getting the chair situation sorted. The rest of dinner, though tense, is somewhat better.

It’s not until they get back to the house and Ben wishes Caleb goodnight that Caleb realises that, for the first time in almost three years, they won’t be sleeping in the same room. 

He spends a good two hours tossing and turning in a too-large, too-empty bed before he finally falls asleep.

-

The next morning Ben and the rest of the family are already up when Caleb gets upstairs. They’re having an animated discussion when Caleb comes into the kitchen, and it halts awkwardly when Caleb walks in, and he feels terrible about it; so he takes the chair in the back of the room and tries to melt into the wall.

Ben takes the seat next to him with two plates full of pancakes, and slides one across to him. “Only three more days,” he murmurs; a promise and a supplication all in one; and his hand brushes Caleb’s beneath the table for a moment before he pulls it away to eat.

“Ben,” says Will, only moments into their meal, “you never did introduce me and your friend.”

“Oh, I’m Ben’s orphan roommate,” Caleb says, deadpan, before Ben can say anything. Ben shoots him an exasperated look, but his lips are twitching, so Caleb counts it as a win.

Will hums. To Zipporah, he says, “I’m going to go shopping for White Elephant with the kids.”

“White Elephant?” Caleb questions.

“It’s a gift exchange we do on Christmas,” Ben explains; and then his eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” he says, “I totally forgot to tell you about it—”

“It’s fine,” Caleb waves him off, “I can go with Will to grab one, if he doesn’t mind?”

Will gives a pinched smile. “That should be fine,” he says. 

With that decided, they finish up the meal; Ben and Caleb bickering softly through out it all; and it almost feels perfect—at least, until Zipporah says, “Ben, I need you to take a look at the router—it’s acting up again.”

Ben sets down his silverware and picks up his plate, rising. “I’ll get right to it, Zipporah,” he promises. “Caleb, I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Caleb say; knocking off a flippant two-fingered salute, and remembers only at the last moment not to wink. Ben disappears into the lobby after Zipporah, leaving Caleb alone with Will, Sally, and the kids.

There’s a sense of anticipation as they all get into their cars; Caleb follows after the Tallmadges’ car to the mall, trying to calm his nerves with some punk music as he drives, but in the end, when he gets out, he’s still jittery as fuck; and going by Will’s expression, he knows it.

They’re abut halfway in the mall when Will says, “Hey, Caleb, would you mind keeping an eye on Eliza and Anna for me? Santa promised them a full set of the Chronicles of Narnia yesterday, so...”

“Oh! Yeah, I can do that,” Caleb agrees; and Will gives him a relieved look. 

“Thanks. Kids, be good,” he says, sternly, and then, along with Sally, disappears into the crowd.

“Well,” Caleb says, after a minute, “you guys want to help me pick out a White Elephant gift?”

One of them—he’s not sure which; besides being twins they’re also dressed identically—picks up a necklace with a price-tag that makes Caleb pale. “What about this?” she asks.

“Uh, no,” Caleb says, “I was actually thinking something more...subtle.”

His gaze catches a purse. “This is nice,” he murmurs, picking it up; and then reads the price-tag and sighs. “Well, guys, I guess we’re not going to find anything here,” he says, “let’s go.”

They trail after him obediently; and everything’s fine, until the gates begin to wail as he passes through them.

“Sir!” barks one of the guards, “stop right there.”

“What—?” Caleb asks, bewildered. He’s 100% certain he didn’t grab anything from in the store, but for some reason, the alarm’s going off. The other guard grabs him. “Hey!” he protests, “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

The other guard riffles through his bag, and then holds up a necklace—the exact one that one of the kids showed to him only minutes before. Caleb’s vision goes slightly red. Bastards. “This doesn’t look like ‘nothing’,” the guard says; and then to the other: “Bradford, help me with him.”

Powerless to resist against the two men, Caleb finds himself dragged off.

They finally release him after an extended, overly theatrical interrogation; and Caleb slinks back to his car, blanketed with shame. It’s a bad omen if he’s ever seen one.

When he gets back, the family pretends they don’t notice his entrance; and Caleb practically flees to his room. A few moments later, there’s a knock on the door. “Caleb?” Ben says, “can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Caleb croaks; wanting nothing more than to just collapse into his arms; and the door opens, revealing Ben. He sits down on the bed next to Caleb.

“Hey,” he says, “are you okay?”

“You don’t think I did it, do you?” Caleb bursts out. “You don’t think I—I  _ stole _ the necklace, do you?”

“No!” Ben shakes his head; and wraps his arms around Caleb; enveloping him in a hug. “No, I don’t,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry about everything that happened. I wish I could make it up to you.”

“I just—” Caleb’s throat is tight. “I hate it here,” he mutters, “I hate not being able to touch you, to laugh with you to be  _ around _ you. And I know it’s only three more days, but—”

“Hey.” Ben’s fingers come up under his chin to tilt his head up; and he says, gently, “I know. Me too. I miss you, Caleb. I...” he sighs. “Tonight,” he says; promises. “After everyone goes to bed, come up to my room. We don’t have to do anything, I just—I want to sleep next to you again. The bed feels too big without you. Please?”

Caleb’s heart swells. “Okay,” he says, and curls his arms around Ben; burying himself back into the hug. “Okay. And...thanks.”

“Of course,” Ben replies; quiet; and just holds him.

-

That night, laying in bed, Caleb texts Ben. 

_ can i come up? _

_ yeah sure just be careful of the creaky landing on the staircase.  _

_ okay. see u in a few <3 _

_ <3 _

He finds himself smiling foolishly at the screen for a few moments, before he rises, and cracks the door open slowly before sneaking out. He’s halfway down the hallway to the stairs when he hears footsteps, and, on instinct, ducks into the closest open door—a closet, as it turns out. 

_ it’s going to take me a bit longer _ he types  _ someone’s in the kitchen and im hiding in the closet rn.  _

_ oh that’s my mom she should be busy for ages, you can come out _

_ I’d love to, _ Caleb thinks, before banishing the thought. Unfortunately, as luck will have it, just as he’s trying to get the door open, he knocks his ankle against something, and it comes to life with a loud whir. 

Fuck.  _ abort mission _ he types as the footsteps approach. A second later, the door opens—Zipporah. She frowns at him. “What on Earth are you doing in the closet?”

“I, uh, got lost on my way to the bathroom,” Caleb lies weakly. 

“It’s just down the half, to the left,” she says; still frowning at him; and he mumbles  _ thanks _ and scuttles off. As soon as she disappears, he makes a bee-line back for his room, half-slamming the door behind him. 

“Woah, easy, tiger,” comes a familiar voice; and Caleb turns to find himself face to face with Ben. 

“Where’d you come from?” he demands, “I thought I was coming up to see you.”

Ben shrugs. “Well, change of plans,” he says, “I’m here now, unless you’re complaining.”

“I’m not,” Caleb says; and practically tackles him back onto the bed. Ben lets out an  _ oof _ , which quickly turns into a moan as Caleb mouths down his neck. 

“You play dirty, Brewster,” he pants, hitching his legs up and pressing them closer together, much to Caleb’s delight. 

“Aye, well, I don’t see you complaining,” Caleb points out; unbuttons Ben’s shirt and drags his hands down over his chest. 

Ben whines. “I hate you,” he says, “get on with it already.”

Caleb grins, and happily obliges him. 

-

The next morning Caleb awakes with a start. Someone’s knocking on the door and calling his name. For a moment, he’s content to let them just barge in; but a moment later he remembers Ben’s at his side. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” he hisses, and scrambles out of bed, shoving a large box of books in front of the door. “Ben,” he whispers, shoving the other, “get up!”

Ben bolts awake; a look of panic on his face; and Caleb shoved his clothes at him. 

“Caleb,” comes Zipporah’s voice, “it seems like something’s blocking the door.”

“Yeah, uh, just a second!” he calls, struggling to get his own pants on; and not a moment too soon, because Zipporah’s shoved the door open. Thankfully, Ben’s behind it. “Do you, uh, do you need something?” Caleb asks; leaning on the door to block her view as much as possible. 

“We need extra hands decorating the tree,” she informs him. 

“Okay. Uh, I’ll—I’ll be up in a moment, then,” he promises; and closes the door; waiting until he hears her footsteps fade away to turn to Ben. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Ben says; half-hysterical. “Fuck, we can’t do that again—“

Caleb crosses the distance between them and grips Ben’s shoulders. “Hey,” he says, “hey, everything’s okay. We didn’t get caught. You’re okay, Ben.”

It takes a few tries, but finally Ben calms down; his eyes no longer those of a deer caught in the headlights. Caleb pats his shoulder. “Now, let’s get up there and decorate that tree, eh?” he says. 

Ben takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Caleb follows after him; wondering how they’re going to make it through the next two days; wondering if he’ll have to see Ben’s terrified expression again. 

The rest of the day isn’t much to write home about; but thankfully, there aren’t any more incidences, and Caleb almost— _ almost— _ feels, if not welcomed, then at least not a total thorn in the sides of the Tallmadges.

-

The next day is a some sort of fancy gala; the Tallmadges—and, by extension, Caleb—are invited because of Nathaniel’s political connections. They all spend nearly the whole day getting ready, and Caleb hardly sees Ben at all—something he’s trying not to resent, but is growing increasingly harder.

When they get to the gala, Nathaniel nearly immediately whisks Ben off to talk to some political rival, while Will and Sally go off to talk about their gift-basket business, leaving Caleb and Samuel alone.

“Well, it’s just us then, huh?” Samuel says, nervously.

Caleb sighs. “I’m going to go get a drink,” he mutters, and makes his way over to the bar. “One whiskey on the rocks, thanks.” He practically knocks it back in a single gulp; ignoring the burn that brings on.

“Good choice.” Caleb turns to find a woman sitting by his side; her smile wide and inviting. “You’re a man of taste. Let me buy you another.”

Caleb tries not to scowl. “No, thanks,” he declines; and sets the glass down, practically fleeing to the balcony. He pulls out his phone; texts Mary. 

_ can i call? _

_ sure. _

Fingers shaking slightly already from the cold, Caleb calls her.

“Hey,” crackles Mary’s voice; slightly tinny but soothing, over the line. “What’s up?”

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Caleb blurts out. “I haven’t seen Ben hardly all day, and ever since we got here it’s like walking on egg-shells, and I—fuck, Mary, I’m just. I don’t know if I can do this. I think I need to come home, but I can’t take the car, and a ride is, like, one grand, and I—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Mary soothes, “calm down there. Deep breaths, come on, breathe with me.”

For a few minutes, he does; and when his heart-rate finally goes down, Mary says, “It’s only like one more day, right? Just tomorrow, and then you’re done.”

“Yeah,” Caleb confirms. “Just...tomorrow.”

“Okay. Well, then, can you get through one more day, or do you need me to come pick you up?”

He thinks about Ben’s terrified expression the day before; thinks about having to calm him down; and then, finally says, “I think I can make another day.”

“Okay,” Mary says, “but if anything changes, text me, okay?”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Thanks, Mary. You’re a life-saver.”

She laughs. “It’s not problem. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Bye.”

He shoves the phone into his pocket and pulls out his gloves; the thin fabric not doing much to warm his hands, but it’s better than nothing.

A rustle makes him whip around to find a familiar face.

“Caleb, right?” asks Nathan; and he nods. “Bit cold out here, huh?”

“A bit,” Caleb agrees; and then, under his breath, “better than being inside with those assholes, though.”

Nathan laughs; high and short. His lips quirk up at the edges; crooked. “Agreed,” he says. “If I have to listen to one more person list off their mysterious illness, I’m going to lose it. —I’m a doctor,” he explains.

“Ah.”

A few beats pass, and then, quietly, Nathan says, “I know what it’s like.”

“Pardon?” Caleb asks, tightly.

“To feel like you’re being hidden, like the person you love doesn’t care as much as you do,” Nathan explains; offering a sad smile. “We were...together, in high school. I was his first boyfriend, but no one knew. We, uh, used to write notes to each other, and one day, one of his friends found one, and asked him what it was...he panicked, said I was gay, and wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Jesus,” Caleb breathes. “That’s...that’s fucked up.”

Nathan huffs. “A bit,” he agrees. “We were...young, and stupid, and he was terrified.”

“That doesn’t excuse it, though,” Caleb argues.

“It doesn’t. But I just...” Nathan hesitates; reaches out an arm to pat Caleb’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that you aren’t the only one who’s felt like this, I guess.” And with that, he turns around, and goes back inside, leaving Caleb alone, head racing with thoughts.

-

The next morning Caleb’s up early; he practically collapsed the instant he got into his room the night before, exhausted both physically and emotionally. When he gets down to the kitchen, it’s empty; so he sets about making himself some pancakes.

About halfway through, Ben sidles up next to him. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Caleb says; tone a bit flat; and tries to force himself to smile; Ben must notice, because he frowns. “You can have some pancakes,” Caleb says, in an attempt to distract him.

Ben smiles. “Your pancakes are the best,” he says, “you need any help?”

“Just get out the plates,” Caleb instructs; flipping a couple of pancakes; and Ben does as told.

When they sit down, instead of sitting opposite him, Ben sits by his side. “There’s something going on that you’re not telling me,” he says; and when Caleb opens his mouth to protest, adds, “I wouldn’t say anything, but it’s obviously weighing on your mind. You can tell me whatever it is, I promise.”

Caleb purses his lips; stabbing his pancakes. “I just feel—like you’ve forgotten me while we’re here,” he murmurs. “I...I miss you, and I want this all to be over already.”

Ben sighs; reaches out to cover Caleb’s hand with his own. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t mean to make you feel like that. After today, I swear, we’re done with this all—all this hiding, okay? I promise.”

Caleb nods. “Okay.”

Ben moves his hand from Caleb’s own to his cheek; cradling it; and kisses him; their eyes fluttering shut in tandem, and for a moment it’s perfect—

There’s a gasp; and they break apart to find Will staring at them. “Fuck!” Ben yelps, scrambling out of his seat, “please, Will, don’t tell dad—”

“Nope, I’m telling him,” Will says; a vicious expression twisting his face. “You’re always the perfect child, dad’s favourite—well, let’s see how perfect he thinks you are once he finds out.”

And with that, he bolts down the hallway. 

“Will!” Ben calls, racing after him; and Caleb follows after him. 

Will disappears into the study; and a moment later, Nathaniel emerges; expression thunderous. “Benjamin,” he says, “is this true?”

Ben flouders; then juts his chin. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, I’m gay, and Caleb is the love of my life.”

Nathaniel shakes his head. “Get out,” he says. “And don’t come back—I can’t risk my career because of—of your bad decisions.” And with that, he disappears into the study. A moment later, Will emerges; expression victorious.

“Not so perfect, eh, Benny?” he mutters as he passes them.

Ben stands still for a moment, and then says, “I need a moment,” and ascends the stairway; leaving Caleb standing in the hallway.

Caleb worries his lip for a moment before going down to the basement and packing his things up into his suitcase and making his way to the car. He doesn’t have to wait long before the trunk open and then slams shut, and Ben joins him in the passenger seat. There’s tear-tracks on his cheeks.

Caleb stares the car; the both of them silent as the car eats up the road in front of them. Finally, Caleb says, “Why didn’t you lie?”

“What?”

“About being gay,” Caleb clarifies. “Wouldn’t it have been easier for you?”

Ben chuckles wetly. “You talked to Nathan, then? —nevermind, don’t answer that.” He sighs deeply, and then finallys says, “I couldn’t...I’m done hiding. It was tearing you apart. It was tearing  _ me _ apart. And I was either going to lose them, or lose you, and I couldn’t stand to lose you. Is that the answer you’re looking for?”

“Oh.” Caleb swallows thickly. Ben looks horribly small, there, in the passenger seat; and Caleb’s heart aches; and then, spontaneously, unable to stand it anymore, he pulls over to the side of the road; unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans over to wrap Ben into a hug.

The other shudders against him for a few moments before finally calming. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“I love you,” Caleb says; and takes Ben’s face in his hands and kisses him. “I love you so much. And, um,” he sits back, and then finally gathers the courage to say, “the ring’s in the suitcase in the back, but will you marry me?”

Ben lets out a choked sound. “ _ What? _ ”

“You can think about it,” Caleb adds, hastily, “I just—I just love you a lot, and I’ve been wanting to ask for, like, the last three months, and—”

Ben cuts him off with a kiss. “I was just surprised,” he says, when he pulls back. “And I think maybe we should go to couples’ therapy, because I think this experience kind of fucked us up, but...” he licks his lips. “Yes,” he says, finally. “Yeah. I want to marry you, Caleb Brewster.”

Caleb grins so hard it hurts. “Okay,” he says. Things aren’t perfect, but they’re okay. They’re going to be perfect eventually, if they work on it. 

“Okay,” Ben echoes, and they hold hands for the rest of the drive.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [major-721](https://major-721.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


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